


There's No Need to Complicate

by lavenderseaslug



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderseaslug/pseuds/lavenderseaslug





	There's No Need to Complicate

He watches her, knows her moods, senses her feelings. The tone of her voice tells him a thousand different things. When she speaks, he watches the wrinkles that bracket her mouth, like parentheses, holding the unspoken words between them. “Are you all right?” _(I need you)_

He has long since learned to decipher the meanings behind what she chooses to say. She is careful in her choice of words; he is careful in how he hears. He can feel her eyes on him as he watches her; he rarely meets her gaze. _(Look at me, John_ )

When Atlantis is asleep, his eyes are open. The quiet is far from calming; he still misses the noises of a city – the traffic, the neighbors, the life outside. Elizabeth is soothed by the waves, the sound of the ocean. He is lulled to sleep by her soft murmurs, her cool breath against his skin.

When morning comes, he rarely stays in bed, detaching himself from the woman who weaves her way around him during the night. He allows it, allows himself to be entangled, but only at night. “Going to the gym?” _(_ _Why do you always leave?)_

He looks over his shoulder, sees the hurt in her eyes. He has to leave. He can’t be this man when he has to go through the gate. He offers a small smile, hoping it will earn him some reprieve. She accepts it, because she knows that he’ll be back when night comes.

His thoughts go to her throughout the day – he can’t stop their path. When her voice comes through his radio, he feels the calmness she radiates. Sometimes she speaks just to him, comforting words meant just for him. He never responds. Sometimes she offers a slight bon mot, a token of friendship, when she is unsure where they stand. He always gives her a small chuckle in return.

They are colleagues. Colleagues first. That is what he tells himself. He tells himself that she must understand that. He’s afraid of what happens if she crosses the line into a new territory. He wants to keep the distance between them.

When he returns through the gate, she is always waiting, her posture tense, expecting anything. “Welcome back.” _(I missed you)_

He always smiles up at her, a reassurance. He can offer her that, at least.

She’s waiting in her quarters by the time he completes his routine physical. She knows he’ll come as soon as Carson lets him. It’s an unspoken agreement between them, one of many. “What did the doctor have to say?” _(Please tell me you’re not hurt)_

“Fine. Perfect health. Body of a twenty year-old.” He smirks, then, letting the dynamic change, letting the rank fall, leaving behind the man.

“And the mind of someone much younger,” she answers, sensing the shift, helping him remove his shirt. Their positions, like their clothing, are shed and left strewn about, waiting to be picked up when the sun rises. _(I wish the night lasted longer)_

In truth, so does he, though he’d never admit it.

And then something changes. Phoebus and Thalan have left their mark behind, left a ticking time bomb in their wake. Elizabeth knew she was playing with fire, suggesting John allow Thalan into his mind. “Phoebus has a favor she would like to ask of you.” _(I have a favor I would like to ask of you)_

And when she kissed him, in full view of Caldwell, McKay and Carson, he could feel the change. And even though Thalan was yelling in his head, John couldn’t let go of her just yet. He knows Elizabeth would never have done this, were she of her own mind. He knows he wouldn’t have let her. But he has no control, and now he’s forced to attack this woman, whose only response is to fire back at him.

It is the longest day he can remember. He is tired from fighting Thalan’s thoughts, from being used in such a way. He welcomes the respite of the hospital, the respite given him by Elizabeth’s unconscious form next to him. He doesn’t know what to say to her; doesn’t know what she’ll say to him.

Caldwell is kind enough to remind them of their kiss; Elizabeth’s face flushes, her mouth tightens. John can only look at her, feel her embarrassment pouring off her. After a moment she looks at him, an apology forming on her lips. _(That wasn’t me. I would never.)_

He silences her before she can open her mouth because he does finally know what she would say. “It’s okay,” he says, a peace offering. He meets her gaze, an olive branch. She smiles, a bridge being built.

When Elizabeth calls him to her office, he goes quickly. She greets him warmly. Almost killing each other has given them something new. His mouth quirks slightly as he seats himself across from her. “I wanted to make sure everything is all right.” _(I don’t need anything to change)_

“Everything’s fine. Never better.” He stretches his legs out in front of him. He knows he should say more, but he can’t muster the words.

She’s watching him now, waiting for him. He knows that if he says nothing, she’ll dismiss him, and he won’t see her again until evening. He has enough strength to look her in the eyes, to see her questioning look.

“Rodney’s been acting strangely,” he says, finally.

“More so than usual?” Her grin is infectious.

“Seems to think the two of us sneak off every now and then. Muttered something about ‘convoluting the chain of command,’ if I heard him correctly.” He doesn’t know how to talk about this, doesn’t know how to tell her it’s okay.

She seems flustered, just as unsure of herself as he is. “I would never…” she trails off, and he knows she doesn’t understand what he’s saying. He’s not even sure he understands what he’s saying.

“I didn’t correct him,” he says, after a moment’s pause. “Well, not about the sneaking. But I did tell him not to worry about any convolution of anything, unless it has to do with some science project he’s working on.”

Her face eases, her eyes soften, she finally knows what he means. “You didn’t correct him.” Her voice is full of warmth, full of hope. For once there are no unspoken words between them, for her face, all lit up from within, is merely repeating his words back to him. _(You didn’t correct him)_

Things do not change over night. He still is a restless sleeper, but he calms more quickly, his fingers tangling with hers, her ear over his heart, their bodies curved towards each other. She still whispers things to him over the radio, but sometimes she lets McKay overhear, and the sound of her laughter through his earpiece is as soothing as anything he could hope to hear.

There are still unsaid words between them, there is still the shift in dynamic from behind the bedroom door to the rest of the world. But there are fewer barriers, less deciphering needed.

He still watches her, her head bent over a computer screen, her eyes traversing the Ancient text in front of her, but when she lifts her gaze to his, he doesn’t look away.


End file.
